


Waiting

by snarkysweetness



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Class Differences, F/M, FTL AU, Fairytale Land AU, Forbidden Love, Sexual Content, Sexual Manipulation, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 22:42:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkysweetness/pseuds/snarkysweetness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Princess Emma’s wedding quickly approaches, Pinocchio must come to terms with the fact that he will never be with the woman he loves. But when a visit from his beloved princess puts a damper in his plans to let her go without a fight, he discovers that she has a few tricks up her sleeves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings about rebellious princesses and carpenter’s sons, okay.

Pinocchio traced his rough hands, calloused from long days working himself to the bone in his father’s workshop, over the smooth wooden lid he’d intricately spent the morning carving. The princess was to come of age in a matter of days and he intended to give her the most beautiful trunk he could muster. It was customary for a Princess to marry when she came of age and while her mother had broken that tradition herself, she seemed intent to continue it with her own daughter.

Emma would soon be off in a foreign land married to some prince she barely knew and he would never see her again. While it broke his heart to know he was going to be sending her off to another man, he couldn’t help but dedicate every spare hour he had to her birthday and wedding present.

He slid his fingers over edges before wiping his brow with the back of his hand. It was hot in the workshop and he’d been at this for hours. He supposed a break was in order.

Pinocchio fetched some water and stared at his work bitterly. Due to his father’s friendship with the King and Queen and their generosity, they had managed to have a good life. His father was the official carpenter of the kingdom, which kept them both busy. Pinocchio even had enough money to pay on a dowry and while there were plenty of maidens who wanted to have him he had no desire to take a wife.

There was only one woman for him. He’d even been foolish enough to think that if he worked hard enough to save money to prove he could provide for her and impress her father that someday he could marry the girl he’d spent his entire life loving. But he was older and wiser now and the fact was that princesses didn’t marry carpenter’s sons.

He had dreamt of marrying her his entire life and here he was slaving over a piece of furniture that would accompany her to her new life.

“You know, carpenter, Sunday’s are meant to be spent in church. It’s a holy day, not a day to be spent laboring in your sweatshop.”

Pinocchio turned to find the object of his undying affections lingering in the doorway. She toyed with the ribbon of her bodice for a moment before smirking and entering the workshop. The door swung shut behind her as she coyly inspected his work.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered as she gingerly traced a delicate finger over the unassembled pieces of her gift.

“Don’t!” He exclaimed a bit too harshly. He took hold of her tiny wrist and released her just as quickly as he’d touched her. His face went red as he swallowed hard to keep his voice from shaking.

“It’s wet,” he explained. “Wouldn’t want to taint those lovely hands of yours with oil,” he whispered. She was close enough that he could detect the sweet scent of cinnamon that always lingered in her hair. He imagined she tasted of it, along with honey and every other sweet thing he could imagine. But that was as close as he would ever come to tasting those full lips of hers; imagination.

“Of course not,” she replied. She reached her free hand up to cup his cheek. He held his breath, wanting to enjoy her touch yet he was terrified he’d be hung for being so close to the King’s only daughter. She stroked his cheek and pulled her hand back with a small smile. “There was a bit of wood dust on your skin,” she whispered with a small smile.

“Thank you, my lady.”

He stepped back to remove himself from temptation but she was a persistent thing, always trying his restraint. She took his hand in hers and pressed their palms together.

“Oh my, Pinocchio, you have been working yourself to the bone, haven’t you? My father pays you well enough, you can hire a boy to help around the shop, you know?”

He blushed and carefully pulled away from her grasp.

“Aye, I’ve hired one. My father is too old to work the way he used to but I…I enjoy keeping myself busy.” He did not want to admit that he’d been working hard on a gift for her, what good would it do either of them? There was no use in admitting his feelings, not now; not ever.

“What do I owe the pleasure of this visit, my lady?

“Oh ‘Nocchio,” she replied with a long sigh. “How many times must I tell you to call me ‘Emma’? You’ve been my best friend my entire life! We played with each other as children. I nursed your wounds when you returned form the Ogre Wars. Do not speak to me as though you are some mindless subject, you’re my friend,” she asserted as she slowly cornered him against the wall.

“We’re not children any longer,  my…Emma,” he whispered. The war had changed him. He’d left behind a young, weeping Emma, mourning the loss of her playmate and returned broken and changed to the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. The war had been hard and traumatizing but he’d do it all again to keep her safe, to be worthy of her; Not to mention having her tenderly dress his wounds was as intimate as they would ever be.

While a carpenter was unworthy of a princess a soldier could hope to become a knight and then dare to ask for her hand, but Emma hadn’t allowed it. She’d nursed him back to health, defying everyone who demanded she allow the healers to do so, and then forbidden her father from sending him back to war.

She claimed she’d die if he sent her best friend away again and the King could not refuse her anything.

If only she loved him as more than a friend, perhaps then she could demand to be married to him instead of some stranger.

“Yes, I know that,” she whispered, her eyes full of sadness. She seemed troubled and he realized that perhaps he wasn’t the only one dreading her wedding day.

“Everyone keeps reminding me that I’m soon to be a woman! And married! All they want to do is tell me what’s expected of me. How to behave. How to be a proper princess! How to ‘please’ my husband. As if being a woman isn’t exhausting enough, they had to add princess to the burden.”

He resisted the urge to pull her against him and stroke her hair while telling her it would be okay. That would be crossing a line he wasn’t sure he could handle.

“If you told your father you had no desire to be wed, he would not force it upon you.”

Emma gave him a small, haunted smile.

“No, he would not, but our men die every day on the battlefield. Money can only get you so far. We need more soldiers to keep our lands safe. My marriage will provide this. A warrior princess can only do her kingdom well for so long, eventually she needs to fulfill her duty for her people.”

Pinocchio felt what was left of his broken heart begin to crumble as his hand moved of its own volition to stroke her dry cheeks. His strong, stubborn, fierce princess would never allow anyone to see her cry, but he knew her better than anyone. Behind the façade she was ready to burst into tears and scream until she got her way. But she was older now and she would not lose control the way she had as a child.

She’d been a rebellious little thing her entire life and he hated to see her reduced to marrying someone she had no desire to be with just to save her people. It was bold and brave but she deserved better. His princess deserved everything he would never be able to give her.

If given the chance to summon the Dark One he would gladly make any deal to spare her a life of unhappiness.

“What can I do, Emma? I know I’m nothing but the boy who used to climb trees with you as a child, but I would sacrifice anything to fix this for you.”

“I know,” she breathed. She met his eyes for a long, agonizing moment before turning her head to kiss the inside of his palm. His heart stopped for a moment as he recognized the look in her eyes.

“Emma-“

“I am your princess, am I not?”

“Always,” he replied huskily.

“Your future queen?”

“Aye.”

“And do you swear to serve me always?”

“Emma, I don’t under-“

“Do you dare to speak to your superior with such familiarity?”

“Emma, you…” he sighed and shook his head. “Of course not.”

“And you would do anything for me?”

“Anything you desire,” he whispered as he rubbed the pad of his thumb across her cheek. “How can I serve thee, my lady?"

She smiled wickedly, as if she’d won a game he hadn’t been aware they were playing. She took hold of his hand and placed it on her creamy bosom. She kept her eyes on his as she used his fingers to untie the ribbon keeping her dress together. It fell from her body easily and his mouth went dry at the sight. It occurred to him she’d worn the simplest thing to remove that she owned and his skin grew warm at the thought that she’d come here with the intention of tormenting him in this manner.

"You can drop the 'my lady' nonsense and fuck me like one of your whores, Pinocchio."

“I…” Her creamy breasts were distracting but after a moment he registered her words and his eyes went wide. “What?” He asked, horrified. He made an attempt to pull away but she was stronger than she looked.

“It’s alright, Pinocchio. I hear the whispers. How the chambermaids whisper of their longing for you. I don’t blame them; you’re everything a man should be. Kind, hard-working, and the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

I am not so naive as to think you’d wait for me.” She stepped closer, until she had him pressed into the stone wall. She leaned up, until their lips were only a breath apart and again the scent of cinnamon filled the air. “Do not think I do not see the way you gaze upon me, as though I am the sun shining light into the darkest parts of your soul. It’s the way every man should look at the woman he loves.”

She pressed a small kiss to the corner of his mouth and he felt he resolve breaking.

“My problem is you’re too blind to see that it’s the same way I gaze at you. I love you, Pinocchio; I have loved you with every fiber of my being since we were children. And if I am to be married for the good of my kingdom, then I intend to do so having been yours at least once. Doesn’t that seem like a fair bargain?”

He stared down at her sadly before shaking his head. The truth was he had waited for her, for years. The offers came, of course. Whores seeking to pay the rent and maids in the castle begging to lie on their backs for him, but he never indulged. They all paled in comparison to Emma.

What was the point in giving yourself over to someone if you felt no love for them? Physical pleasures only went so far. He had no intention to engage in the sins of the flesh without also completely giving over his soul to the other person.

Besides, he’d once promised to be a good boy and he intended to keep his word; he had no desire to turn back into a wooden puppet for bedding every woman that threw herself at him. 

“I have dreamt of being with you for as long as I can remember, but I cannot do this for you, Emma. Your husband will know you have…” he sigh, “been tainted and I do not imagine any situation in which that will end well for you. I’m sorry but I cannot grant you this request. And spare me your tears,” he whispered bleakly as she began to stick out her lower lip and bat her eyes. “I love you far too much to ruin you in such a manner.”

It occurred to him that he would go his entire life without the touch of a woman. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, kiss her, to make love with her, but not like this. He took her hand and placed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. He wanted to court her, to steal kisses, to ask for her hand properly, and after vowing to be hers for all of eternity spend the rest of his life making love to her at every available moment.

“Please do not be cross with me,” he pleaded. It was unbearable enough that she would be leaving him soon, he didn’t want her to go while hating him.

Emma cocked her head to the side and let out small groan of frustration. She shook her head as if he were a small child and huffed loudly.

“I will admit, while I expected a small fight, I didn’t expect you to be so difficult about this.”

He opened his mouth to protest but then she did something so shocking, it rendered him speechless.

Emma shrugged out of her dress and kicked it to the side before falling to her knees gracefully. How she managed to look both regal and arousing at the same time befuddled him.

“Your Majes-“

She cut him off with a look that could kill a weaker man.

“You are far too noble for your own good and I intend to remedy that. I suggest you do as you’re told and enjoy or you’re going to have a very angry princess on your hands. Do you understand?”

“But I-“

She slid one hand along the inside of his thigh and he released an involuntary moan. He was ashamed to admit that Emma being in such close proximity while bearing her flesh to him had left him a bit… _engorged_. She gnawed on her lower lip as she cupped the bulge in his trousers and gave him a squeeze.

An inhuman noise escaped his lips as her fingers worked to free him from his leather breeches.

“Princess, what are you-“

“Hush now; I gave you orders, did I not? Don’t speak and enjoy, or I’ll be forced to punish you.”

“This is not your definition of punishment?”

She gave him a wicked grin as she stroked the length of him.

“Only if you don’t enjoy it.”

She took him into her mouth and his knees buckled. He grasped the wall to keep himself erect and groaned. He’d used his hand, of course, always to thoughts of her, and he would always feel guilty afterwards. But this was unlike anything he could ever fantasize about. It was like dying and being taken to heaven yet the sight of her, on her knees on the dirty floor was too much for him to bear.

“Emma…I…you deserve better than this-“

“I know full well what I deserve and unless you intend to ravish me you’re going to let me finish.”

He gawked at her for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Either he…or he…what?

“That’s what I thought, now where was I?”

She ran her tongue along the length of him and he shuddered with approval. A small growl escaped his lips and he instinctively reached out to grasp her hair. After a moment, he felt the familiar building of his arousal and knew he had to stop her before things went too far. Though it would mean humiliating himself by admitting that it took nothing but a few laps of her tongue and mere moments of touching to get him to come to fruition.

“Emma-“

“Don’t speak,” she mumbled, her mouth still filled with him.

“No, you don’t understand, I’m going to…” He jerked as he began to spill his seed; everywhere. On her lips, the floor, her…he gulped, _chest_.

“I’m so sorry!“ He cried, horrified. He reached for something clean but she only shrugged and jumped to her feet, seemingly thinking nothing of it. She used the back of her hand to wipe off her lips and inspected her bosom with a small sigh before looking at him disapprovingly.

“Don’t apologize. Though, I must say, I thought a man of your experience would be able to control him-what?” She asked, noticing the shamed look on his face.

“I…Emma…I’ve never…what I mean is…oy,” he stammered, feeling foolish. He took a moment to compose himself before speaking. “No woman, no matter how beautiful, can ever compare to you and if it wasn’t you, that what was the point?” He sounded like an idiot and he knew it, but he’d take that over the embarrassment that had been their little tryst. He averted his gaze and shoved himself back into his trousers, his entire body on fire both from her touch and from shame.

She toyed with her curls and studied him with an amused expression on her face.

“Pinocchio, do you mean to tell me that you’ve never been with any woman?”

He shook his head.

“Nay.”

“Not in any way?”

“Not until a few moments ago,” he replied with a blush.

She approached him slowly and once more he found himself pinned against the wall.

“Not even a kiss?”

He trembled as she feathered her fingers over his forearm. Pinocchio shook his head, unable to speak, and she beamed.

“We’ll just have to correct that then, won’t we?”

She grasped his arm and stood up on her toes before pressing her mouth to his. He froze for a moment, finding it strange that their first kiss should be when he could taste himself on her lips, but then again, his princess didn’t enjoy playing by the rules.

He brought a hand to her waist and pulled her against him. If he was to lose her, he couldn’t deny himself the chance to kiss her properly, especially not now that he’d allowed her to cross the line between them.

She was as sweet as he imagined. She tasted of honeysuckle and spices and kissing her felt like coming home. He ran his fingers through her hair, wanting to be as close to her as possible. Emma smiled against his lips before breaking away from him. She rested a hand on his chest and glanced up at him happily.

“While I thoroughly enjoyed that kiss, I think we can do better,” she whispered before pulling him flush against her. They kissed properly this time and while it was awkward, noses bumping, too much tongue, and both unsure of where to put their hands, it was still amazing. By the time they came up for air, their bodies had discovered how it was supposed to be done and he knew he could spend the rest of his life just kissing her.

“You’re remarkable,” he praised as he rested his forehead against hers.

“Would you love me if I wasn’t?”

“I cannot imagine a life in which I would not love you with every ounce of my being, princess.”

She gazed up at him adoringly before pressing her lips to his once more. She took his hands and led him into the small office where she proceeded to shove him into a chair.

“Now, seeing as you’ve already defiled me, Pinocchio, I think it’s only right that you finish the job and do it properly.” She climbed into his lap and leaned in to kiss him but he turned away. She sighed in exasperation. “I told you, I want this-“

He pulled her arms around his neck before wrapping his arms around her waist, securing her in his arms.

“Not like this, my lady.”

“Pino-“ He cut her off with a kiss and stood quickly. He had no intention of not satisfying her desires. She was right; he’d already allowed things to go too far and there was only so much he was willing to deny her. He was going to burn in hell for this, quite literally as he couldn’t imagine this wouldn’t break his deal with The Blue Fairy, but it would be well worth it to allow her to make love to someone who truly loved her before she was sold off like property to some man who would never cherish her the way Pinocchio did.

“If I’m going to ruin you, Emma, I plan to do it correctly.”

Pinocchio was glad his father and Jiminy were out buying supplies from a neighboring kingdom. If they had not been, he would have never been able to sneak a half-clothed princess from the workshop into the small adjoining cottage. And he suspected that even if he could manage to pull off such a feat, he knew that even if he did not satisfy her, it would be impossible to hide what they were doing in his bedroom.

He pressed his lips to her shoulder before gingerly setting her back onto her feet. He took her hand and nervously led her to his small bedroom. It wasn’t befitting a princess, but she didn’t seem to mind. He had no clue what to do. Of course he understood the mechanics of how a man and woman were to couple but as he’d never done it, he knew it was going to be horrible for her. There would be pain and bleeding and he would be fumbling about and…

“Are you sure you want to do thi-“ She pressed her fingers to his lips and nodded. The sunlight filtering in through his small window illuminated her in a way that was reminiscent to an angel. He closed the door and allowed her to take his hand and lead him towards the bed.

She was determined, but even with her resolve set on giving herself to him he detected a slight shake to her hand and nervousness radiating from her.

Emma sat on the edge of the bed and pulled him along with her until she was lying with him hovering over her. Pinocchio studied her face before tucking a loose curl behind her ear.

“I’ve no clue what to do,” he reminded.

“Neither do I. I was told I’d know what to do when the time came.”

“It’ll be painful and…I can’t guarantee you’ll enjoy it.”

She smiled.

“You’ll be careful; you always have been when it comes to me. And we’ll just have to do it until we get it right. I won’t allow you to leave me unsatisfied, Pinocchio.”

A blush crept over his cheeks as he smiled. He averted his gaze for a moment, unsure of how to phrase his next request.

“And what of…” he glanced up bashfully but as he formed the words, it occurred to him that while he would have her first, another man was meant to have her always and to father her children. His heart hardened for a moment as he tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “How will we make sure there won’t be a child?”

She gave him a wretched look, her eyes telling him she too was fully aware of what her marriage would mean. She pulled a small vial from between her breasts and held it up for him to see.

“I paid a sorceress a very hefty price for this. She guaranteed upon the threat of death that it would prevent such an occurrence.” She removed the cork and took the entire potion in one swift gulp. She cast the glass aside and met his eyes. “No one will ever have to know, Pinocchio.” She took her hand and kissed it. “I swear it.”

He kissed her quickly, before he could change his mind and before the thoughts of what the future held for them could consume him. If he was to lose her, he planned to make good use of the one night he would have with her. A small part of him regretted letting allowing her to take the damned potion. The price of magic aside, his overtly-romantic notions still defied logic and a small part of him wanted to believe that if he left a child within her womb it would make him hers for all time. She would surely forsake her duty for her child?

Of course, he knew better. And as he slowly slipped off what was left of her undergarments, all thought became lost to him.

He allowed his lips to explore every inch of her. It was the one thing he’d come to do well in their short time together and the noises escaping her throat encouraged him to keep going. When his lips became too swollen to continue, he allowed his hands to take a turn.

“Pinocchio!” She cried as his fingers found the slick place between her thighs.

“Tell me when to-“

“No, keep going,” she commanded. “I beg of you,” she added hastily.

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

He watched the expressions play on her face as he slowly became familiar with every part of her. If he touched her a certain way she’d gasp in surprise and if he found just the right spot to apply pressure she’d grasp at the linens while crying out his name.

“Oh! There, ‘Nocchio! Right…oh good God in heaven!” She cried out. “Absolve me of my sins so that I may do them again,” she sighed with a small tremble. She took a moment to catch her breath before taking hold of his wrist.

“I’ve had enough of your teasing; I need you to be mine; _now_.”

He smirked triumphantly and pressed a kiss to her neck.

“I had intentions of returning your earlier favor, but if you insist.“ He shrugged and pressed a kiss to her forehead as he pulled her against him. “And just so we’re clear, princess, I’ve always been yours. All you had to do was ask.”

“What a fine time to tell me.”

“Can you blame me for being unwilling to do so before?”

She shook her head.

“No, but I shall blame you if you don’t kiss me now and get on with it.”

He smiled and ran a hand through her gorgeous blond curls.

“Whatever you desire, my love.”

Pinocchio kissed her slowly, meaning to distract her from the pain that was sure to come, until she pulled away, breathless.

“Are you certain, Emma?” He asked again, wanting to be sure.

“Yes,” she replied with a nod and then, as if she realized she’d never get to say the words again, she added: “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He pressed his lips firmly against hers as he wrapped her legs around his waist. He hesitated at her entrance, but decided it would be best for her if he just got it over with quickly.

She bit her lip but a cry of pain still escaped her lips. He tried to apologize, to stop, but she yelled at him to keep going or she’d have him hung. He clumsily continued as she clung to him, digging her nails into his forearms as she whimpered.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hating himself. He could not bear to be the cause of her discomfort.

She shook her head and kissed him hard on the mouth.

“The pain is passin-oh,” she mumbled against his lips. “There, Pinocchio,” she hissed, pressing his fingers to a spot just above where their bodies where joined.

“Like this?” He asked, taking her lead. She gnawed on her lower lip and nodded fiercely. He rubbed the small, tender bud while continuing to move in and out of her slowly. 

She nodded.

“Just keep-“ she moaned quietly and buried her face against the crook of his neck.

He had no idea how his hasty, sweaty, and awkward thrusts were eliciting this response from her, but he wasn’t going to argue with her. The feel of her slick, tight walls wrapped around him was more enjoyable than he could have ever imagined it would be. He was sure he wouldn’t last much longer, but he’d do his best to satisfy her until the time came.

When he could no longer hold off his release, he jerked into her a few final times before collapsing against her. He pressed kisses to her jaw and neck while whispering apologies. He could see the blood stains on the linens, feeling guilty that he’d caused her any pain, especially when he didn’t have the skill to make it worth her while.

“Do not fret, my love, we’ll try again as soon as we’ve rested,” she whispered with a lazy smile. She ran her hands over his chest before pushing him onto his back so she could rest on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and buried his lips into her hair. “I told you, our bodies would know what to do. And soon, we’ll get better.”

He pressed a kiss to her scalp and reached for a quilt to wrap her in.

“I desire to never let you go, princess,” he whispered once he was confident she was warm in his arms. He’d been ready to let her go, but now he wanted nothing more than to fight for her. It was possibly the most selfish desire he’d ever had, aside from desiring her to begin with, but now that he knew she loved him in return and they’d given their bodies over to one another he couldn’t imagine standing idly by as her father handed her off to another man.

“I never had any intention of allowing you to, darling,” she replied with a hint of mischief in her voice.

“Sweetheart, what are you playing at?” He asked nervously. He knew full well the Hell that could be unleashed once Emma set her mind to something. However, the wedding was planned, the deal had been struck, and getting out of this would be disastrous. This was not something to simply back out of without consequences.

“Don’t worry, my love, it’ll be…well, _difficult_ at first. No man wants to be abandoned by his bride, especially for another man, but he will be handsomely compensated. My godmother Abigail was only too happy to agree to buy the services of his armies in exchange for breaking the engagement.”

His mouth went dry. This whole time she’d known there would be no wedding and she’d allowed him to continue to agonize over it?

“Why would she-“

“She believes in True Love, my darling. All I had to do was let my eyes fill with tears as I told her all about my love for you and how I could not forsake my kingdom for my own selfish desires and well…she insisted. Who was I to say ‘no’?”

“My God, Emma, you’re…”

“Oh, I know. Don’t worry; I suspect she was looking for an excuse to do it anyway. If my father had not broken their engagement, they’d be in a loveless marriage and her dear Frederick would still be lost to her. I think she wanted to find a way to repay the favor.”

He brushed her hair away from her face so he could gaze upon her smug yet beautiful features.

“Your father will still not allow us to be together. Especially if he suspects I’m the reason you went about this cunning scheme to get out of your marriage. He may have been willing to entertain it before, but now? I’ve nothing to offer you, Emma, especially when a prince has already offered you the world. You can do much better than me. And he knows that.”

“I love you and he will learn to accept it, whether he wants to or not. I will get what I want. I don’t know why you all fight me when I always win in the end.” He rolled his eyes as he was reminded that while she was not your typical princess, she was still a princess and at times she could be insufferable.  Adorable, charming, and enchanting; yes, but insufferable nonetheless.

“Of course…” She sighed and waved a hand. “Oh, well, we’ll deal with it when it comes.”

“What?”

“Well, daddy will want to eradicate you at first. He’ll even have you thrown in the dungeons, threaten you with the gallows; maybe even try to ship you back to the battlefield, but my mother will talk him out of it. Don’t worry; she’ll force him to see reason.

After all, by the time he married my mother she wasn’t exactly an unplucked flower. It’s hypocritical of him to insist that I stay a maiden until my wedding night when he couldn’t keep his hands to himself long enough to ensure I wasn’t a guest at their wedding. He can be upset all he wants, I won’t hear it.”

His mouth went dry again as she rambled away.

“Why in the world would you tell him that we…” He began in a high-pitched voice. He swallowed, trying to find his voice as fear and confusion settled into his bones. “There is no need to-“

“But it’ll be impossible for him not to know, darling. I imagine everyone will suspect at any rate, with how quickly we’ll be wed. Come to think of it, I see no reason why we don’t just get married on my birthday. Everything is already planned; we might as well get it over with.”

“I-but I haven’t even asked you yet!”

He wanted to get down on one knee and profess his love to her after receiving her father’s blessing. Instead they were entangled together in post-coital, pre-marital bliss with her doing the asking, or rather, demanding. This wasn’t how he-

“What do you mean ‘impossible for him not to know’?”

He sat up and pulled her into his lap. His heart was racing. He hated it when she began speaking in riddles. He loved everything about her, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t find her maddening as well. He had no clue what she was playing at but he suspected it would end with his torture and demise and he was going to put his foot down for once.

She glanced up at him with a sweet smile on her lips and shrugged happily.

“Why, because of the baby, of course,” she said nonchalantly.

“The what?” He croaked. His heart stopped for a full moment before falling into the pits of his stomach. His hands began to sweat and the air in the room became thick. “How?” He asked finally. They’d made love only moments ago, there was no conceivable way there could already be a child.

“Did you really think I didn’t have a back-up plan? There is no way in Hell my father would allow me to get married to one man while carrying the child of another. Don’t worry, he’ll stop being angry with you the moment she’s born and he holds her for the first time. He’ll be so pleased to have a grandchild he’ll forgive you all of your transgressions.”

“But you told me-you _lied_?” He didn’t’ even have it in him to be furious, he was just in shock. “Is this why you seduced me? Just so you could…ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS TELL ME YOU LOVED ME IN RETURN AND I WOULD HAVE FOUND A WAY FOR US TO BE TOGETHER!”

She smirked and toyed with the hairs on his chest.

“Don’t be silly, I came here with the intention of having my way with you for no other reason than I desired you. The child is just a bonus, darling.”

“But how do you-“

“Oh the potion? It was nothing more than a tonic to fight the common cold. I have no idea where one would procure a potion to prevent a pregnancy. Rumpelstiltskin, I imagine. I have no desire to make deals with the Dark One. Besides, could you imagine the scandal if the princess was caught acquiring sheepskin. I figured we would take our chances.”

“But how can you be sure-“

“Oh my sweet summer child.” She patted his cheek lovingly. “By the time I leave here, I will have had you so many times it will be impossible to not be with child. My parents think I’m still visiting Abigail. They don’t expect me back for another two days and when I sent your father out to find rubies to encrust upon the bedframe I commissioned from him, I knew it would be a week’s journey at the least.”

She pressed her palm against his chest until he was flat on his back.

“As I said, I desire you, my darling, and I intend to have my way with you until we’re both incapable of moving.” She slid her fingers over down his torso before taking hold of him firmly. “Do you have any protests?”

“You little-“ He grabbed her by the back of the neck and crushed their lips together. She was a devious, manipulative little minx and he couldn’t love her more for it.

He broke away and grasped her before flipping her onto her back. He pinned her to the bed and gazed down at her with a big smile on his face.

“Princess?”

“Carpenter?”

“Will you marry me?”

She smirked.

“As if any girl would be foolish enough to deny a man who would slave away to give her a wedding gift for another man because he loves her enough to respect her wishes.”

“You knew?”

“Of course I did. And I think it’s only fair that I inform you that I plan to spend the first few years of our marriage punishing you for being too noble to admit your feelings to me. Things would be a whole lot simpler if you had just said to hell with your station and kissed me until my lips bled while professing your undying love for me.”

“Well, I suppose that is my cross to bear, however, I don’t think it’s too late to give you what you want.”

“So you’re not cross with me?” She watched him uncertainly, as if wondering if she had finally gone too far.

He pressed his lips to her temple and shook his head.

“I would love nothing more than to give you a dozen children if it means spending the rest of my life by your side.” And the thought of being a father and sharing the love his own father had given him with a small life he’d created with his beloved was far more happiness than he deserved to be granted.

“Then defile me again, Pinocchio. Defile me until we can no longer move,” she whispered as she drew him towards her.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her passionately. He set about making her lips bleed while whispering all the ways he loved her in between making certain he left her with no choice but to marry him.


End file.
